New World
by LaVieEnRose101
Summary: Raven Reyes and the 100 expected the Earth to be a whole new start to their lives. Anything is better than the Ark, right? What they didn't expect was to be thrust into a world of war, wolves, sex, and babies. Lots and lots of babies. And it all started when they captured a young Grounder by the name of Clarke, daughter of the great general Anya.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The air was cold. Colder than anything Raven has ever felt before. She shivered immensely; her arms wrapped around her body in hopes it would provide just a little warmth. But it did nothing. The cold has beaten her. Nothing she did could better this fresh hell she had been sent to. It almost made her want to beg her boyfriend for some hot, sweaty sex. Almost.

"Lovely out here, isn't it?" came a sarcastic voice.

Well, speaking of the devil.

"Yes, lovely is the word I'm thinking of," Raven responded, equally as mocking.

Finn smirked, rubbing his hands together by his mouth. "I quite like the way my balls have made their way inside me."

"Well it'll certainly make things interesting tonight, won't it?"

Finn's eyebrows shot up. "So…the thought of my non-existent balls is what gets you in the mood, huh? I suppose I'll have to remember that."

Finally, Raven lets out a laugh. She didn't want to; she was so fucking miserable. But It was Finn she was talking to – he always knew how to lighten up the mood, how to make those rare smiles come out of her.

"Anything for you, babe," Raven said.

Finn laughed.

Raven smiled at the sight. It was so good to see him laugh. Hell, it was good to see anyone laugh. These past few days have been a special kind of hell for them – and the other 98 people they were with.

When the Council sent them down to Earth, they thought it would be the end. How can someone survive so much radiation? But, somehow, they survived. And it was the most beautiful place they have ever seen; a perfect place to start over. No longer were they delinquents. No longer were they children of the Ark. They were entirely their own.

Until they weren't.

Three days into their paradise, a fury of vicious wolf attacks overtook them. And that would have been okay if it weren't for the fact that the wolves left the all alive. Wolves. It didn't make sense. They attacked, and left them alone? It was almost as if it was a message: leave this place at once. And that left the camp fearful, allowing for a power vacuum to ensue.

The elder Bellamy Blake, who snuck on board the dropship to aid his younger sister Octavia was quick to win over the masses. He thrived on a message of fear, passing out guns to his loyal henchmen and beating anyone that dared to oppose him. The 100's dropship quickly became a war-like camp. He had people building walls and patrolling the land around them. No longer were people even allowed out of the camp without an escort. It was authoritarian-like; just as the Ark was. Raven attempted to change it – this was supposed to be a new world for them, right? But no one wanted to listen, especially after Bellamy's Patrol Unit was attacked.

Raven didn't want to believe it when it happened; no one did. But the way over a dozen men came back to the camp screaming, bleeding profoundly, it was impossible not to believe. The wolves were people. People! They had seen the wolves shift into people, screaming at them to leave in an unintelligible language. No one wanted to leave the camp since. No one wanted to risk an encounter with the mysterious Grounders.

"It's good to see you smile," Finn said, bringing Raven out of her thoughts.

She grinned in response. "Likewise."

Finn mirrored her grin. "You know, you and I should-'

"Grounder!" Atom, Bellamy's right-hand man, shouted from the lookout post.

The whole camp was instantly abuzz, the cold fleeing their minds. Raven and Finn exchanged stunned looks, quickly coming to their senses and pushing back the line of Bellamy's gunmen ready to shoot the Grounder on sight. Their undying loyalty to the delusional man infuriated them to no end, but, without the numbers on their side, there was nothing they could do.

The gates to the camp swung open. Slowly a dark-clothed Bellamy came strolling in, not one but two AK-47s slung around his shoulders. Behind him, a bloodied Myles and Sterling came into view. They two had guns, but that was not what stood out; what grave Raven and the other delinquents wide eyes was the Grounder they dragged in with chains.

Raven frowned. It was a woman no older than twenty-two years old; long blonde hair, almond-shaped black eyes, and lightly tanned skin. Despite the dirt covering her naked body and the blood smeared on the side of her head, she was beautiful. She was drop-dead gorgeous. And so very, very pregnant.

Finn looked at Raven fearfully. "How much you want to bet that the Grounders ain't going to be too happy about this?"

Raven's head dropped. Fuck.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Screams echoed across the camp. Feminine screams. Screams of horror. Screams of pain. Desperate screams, begging for this to end. But it didn't end. It went on for hours at a time, only small breaks in between. Still, no one dared to say anything about it. It's what needs to be done, they argued. It doesn't matter who it is; what they are. The only thing that matters is that they will safer because of it.

_What fools. _

This was only going to get them all killed. Before, all the Grounders had done was tame them; warn them to stay away. But now they captured one of their own. A pregnant woman, of that. And that alone would be okay, because they could release her as a sign of peace. But now they were torturing her. _Torturing her_. And suddenly all dreams of peace were whisked away, for inflicting harm to a pregnant woman and her unborn children were one of the worst crimes someone could commit.

"A pregnant woman," Raven seethed to herself when a particularly loud scream emerged. "A pregnant woman…"

She sat outside the hatch to the top section of the dropship for almost two days now, food, water, and medical supplies by her side. Raven wanted to burst into the room, heal the woman, and carry her to the safety of her unknown home; however, Bellamy or his lackeys always remained inside, with two of them armed and guarding the door outside. They knew Raven would kill them without hesitation.

"Are you okay?" a soft voice asked.

"Am I okay?" Raven said incredulously, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "A pregnant woman is being tortured and you're asking if _I'm_ okay? What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Raven," Finn said softly.

Raven sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you."

"I know," he said, holding out a sandwich. "Eat."

Raven shook her head, eyeing Murphy and Connor at the door. "I just don't understand," she whispered, more at herself than Finn. How could they be so cold? So uncaring? Raven understood the fear they felt, but she just couldn't wrap her mind around their response. A pregnant woman was of no risk to them. What was a risk, though, was the response from the Grounders they would undeniably receive for this madness.

"If you won't eat, then at least rest," Finn urged.

"No."

"Raven-"

"I'll sleep when she can too."

Finn sighed. "Raven, you look you're about to pass out. Being ill will not help her."

Raven glared at him. "Neither does being tortured."

Finn looked stunned. "Hey, I don't support-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of the hatch being opened and slammed shut echoed through the metal ship. Down the ladder came Bellamy holding an electric baton; Myles, John, Dax, and Derek by his side. They had blood spattered across their clothes. Fuck, Raven thought. What the hell did they do to her?

Raven quickly grabbed the now-cold bucket of water and the medical supplies, darting towards the ladder.

A hand wrapped around her wrist. "Ah, ah," Bellamy hissed. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Raven flicked her arm away. "To help her."

The boys looked at each other and laughed.

"She doesn't need any help," Bellamy said.

"I don't think you can be the judge of that," Raven spat and pushed past him.

The click of a gun made Raven pause.

She huffed, turning around to face Bellamy with the deadliest glare she could give. "What? Are you going shoot me now?" she hissed in front of the barrel of the gun. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Bellamy refused to drop it. "If you were as smart as they say, you'd recognize how valuable she is to us."

Raven wanted to punch him. "So you torture her!?"

"I gave her a chance to talk!" he retorted. "We need to know who the hell we're dealing with!"

"Is that really your justification?"

"She's a threat, Reyes!"

"Like your mother was?"

Bellamy coiled back, clearly stunned to hear such a rebuttal.

Raven laughed bitterly. "I may not have known her, but do you really think the woman who spent her whole life protecting your little sister from death would agree with what you're doing?" When Bellamy's face morphed into anger, Raven pushed even harder. "Do you think your sister would too? Cause I don't she does. I may be wrong, but it seems like the moment you brought that fucking pregnant woman here Octavia has been avoiding you."

When Bellamy remained silent, his face red as a tomato, Raven knew she had won. "That's what I thought," she growled at them. Pushing past him and the others, she grabbed her supplies and made her way to the ladder.

"Raven-" Finn started.

But Raven would have none of it.

"Fuck off, Finn," Raven growled, grabbing the ladder with one hand and awkwardly hobbling up it.

Raven wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the moment she opened the hatch she froze. The blonde woman was leaning against the wall, half-conscious. Her wrists and legs were chained together, blood dripping from the edges of the cuffs digging into her skin. Her head too was covered in blood, the wound from her capture having been forcibly ripped open even further. And her nose was broken too; whether from punches or someone hitting her with an object, Raven did not know. But what got Raven was the awful burn marks across her naked legs. Just how many times did Bellamy hit her with the baton?

"I'm sorry," Raven whispered, rushing over to clean her wounds. She should have also brought a blanket to cover her. Dammit.

The woman flinched away, eyes spewing with hatred at her touch.

"Please," Raven begged. "Let me help you."

The woman only backed away until her back hit the wall.

Raven dipped a towel into the bucket of water and held it out to her. "Please," Raven whispered. "All I want to do is help you."

The woman shook her head, flinching as Raven's hand got closer and closer to her face.

Raven wanted to punch Bellamy. How the hell was she supposed to gain the trust of a woman who was just tortured? If she were in her position, Raven wouldn't trust anyone either.

Raven dropped her hand, sighing. "I'm sorry, I never wanted this to happen," Raven said. "I tried stopping them. I really did. No one deserves this."

The blonde woman tilted her head, flinching when the open wound touched the cold wall.

Raven sighed. When she heard the story of how this woman came to be in their…_custody_, she almost couldn't believe it. Bellamy and his lackeys going out hunting, only to find a large, fluffy blonde wolf so intent on finding something that she didn't even hear their footsteps. With one large Ewok-style log whack to her head, the wolf fell unconscious; reverting to her human self. Raven couldn't help but think – how different would this woman's world be if she just went the other way?

"My name is Raven Reyes," Raven said, deciding to open up herself before expecting a complete stranger to do so.

The stranger narrowed her eyes but seemed to listen. A good sign – right?

"Me and my people grew up on the Ark," she continued. "It's a, uh, basically a giant metal box floating in space. You know, the, uh, the place above our atmosphere? Above the sky! I'm sorry, you clearly don't understand what I'm saying, do you? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; nothing from the past survived the war. People are bound to forget what they don't need to survive."

Raven's lip curled, suddenly realizing how much she was rambling. Why was it that this woman made her so nervous? She didn't know her; the woman didn't know her either. They were complete strangers, and yet Raven was willing to risk her wellbeing to spare the mysterious blonde. Finn was right; she _is_ crazy.

Raven took a calming breath, doing her best to avoid the amused eyes of the blonde. "On the Ark, the rules are everything," she said. "You break them, and you pay the ultimate price: death. Luckily for me – and the others down here – we're still kids. The Council passed a rule that all those below 18 are to be spared. At least until the day we turn 18. That's when then they float us – a quick, but painful death."

The Grounder appeared to relax, and Raven jumped at the chance to begin washing her wounds. To her utter delight, the woman let her. Yes! This had to be her biggest success! As softly as she could, Raven ran the towel across the woman's bloodied body; clearing all the wounds. The stranger seemed to appreciate it, for she sighed in content and placed a grateful hand on top of Raven's.

"Do you want to know what my crime was?" Raven abruptly continued. When the Grounder looked at her curiously, Raven felt her heart drop. So beautiful. "I tried to get more food for my mother. We have to survive on rations on the Ark – no matter what. But my mom was sick, you know? She needed the extra energy…and I-and I couldn't let her die. I just couldn't. But I got caught." A tear dropped from her eye, her towel dropping from her hand and onto the cold metal floor. "And she died anyway."

The Grounder rubbed soothing circles across the top of her hand, although she was clearly uncomfortable with the crying. A harsher people, perhaps? More focused on survival than truly living?

Raven shook her head, forcing her hand away from the woman's soft touch. "It doesn't anymore, though," she said. "She's dead; I'm not."

Raven continued to clean her wounds in silence after that. It wasn't uncomfortable; just quiet – not that Raven or the Grounder was complaining. They just had to get through this. One more step forward. Although, Raven wasn't sure if a step forward was a good thing for the blonde. Sadly, she didn't seem to care though. It was almost as if the woman was prepared for death. But her death was something that Raven wouldn't allow to happen.

The chains across the woman's wrists clinked when she grabbed them, struggling not to scream when Raven got to spraying antiseptic across her burn wounds. Her hands squeezed tightly across the chains; her knuckles turning white. And Raven was still surprised by her restraint. Whenever someone was sprayed with it in the Ark, 9 out of 10 people would break down crying. The blonde's pain tolerance was remarkable.

"I'm sorry," Raven said quickly when she was done. "This will help make sure it doesn't get infected."

The woman said nothing, her breath heavy with pain.

"I need to spray your head wound as well before I stitch it up," Raven explained, regretfully.

The woman glared at her.

Raven took that as an okay and released the spray.

The woman finally let out whimpers, as she clung to the chains for dear life.

Raven dropped her hands. She still needed to stitch her wounds – especially the one on her head; however, she thought it only right to allow the woman a minute to breathe. Raven knew this woman's type; never admit pain, for pain is only present at its acknowledgment. However, despite her amazing poker face, she clearly was in fact in a great deal of pain.

Raven's eyes dropped to her broken nose. How she was going to deal with that, she did not know. Raven was more than capable of producing a few stitches or cleaning off some blood. However, she wasn't at all comfortable with resetting broken bones. For that, she would need to find someone with medical training. Harper, maybe? She trained with Dr. Griffin before her arrest, right?

"Can you tell me your name?" Raven finally asked.

The woman continued to glare at her, still coming down from the pain.

"Come on, I'm not going to hurt you," Raven urged. "Haven't I proved myself to you?"

She kept on being met with glares.

Raven sighed. She wanted to be irritated by this woman's mistrust, but she found herself only saddened. "Fine," she said. "Be that way."

Raven continued to work on her wounds until she was as good as new – well, almost as good as new. A tortured woman can't look perfect after a measly hour, could she?

"And I'm done," she announced, dropping the needle in her bag.

The woman looked at herself, finally opening her mouth to speak when-

"Argh!" the woman hissed, chained hands clinging to her belly.

Raven looked down just in time to see a set of feet kicking away. "How many?"

The woman tilted her head, confused.

Raven sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Um…how many do you think you're, uh, carrying?" she asked, pointing to the woman's large belly. "One?" she asked, pointing up one finger. "Two?" she asked, doing the same thing. "Three?" She pointed once more at her belly for emphasis.

However, the woman continued to only stare into her soul.

Raven laughed nervously. "Gotta be more than one in there, right?"

The woman frowned, and yet the emotionless look on her face remained. She didn't want to answer, Raven realized. Any information she says can be used against her. It was a smart move. But Raven didn't intend to tell anyone the Grounder's words. She knew what Bellamy would do to her if he found out that she could understand them, and all Raven wanted was to make sure that she was okay; that her babies were alright. Raven may not be the nicest person in the world, but at least she was decent.

Raven sighed. "I'll be back later, okay? I gotta go. I'll bring you some clothes and a blanket before night's end."

Once more, the only response she was met with was staring.

Raven let out a heavy sigh and picked up her things.

She paused at the door. "I'm sorry," Raven whispered once more.

"Clarke."

Raven spun around, sure her ears deceived her. "What?"

The blonde woman shifted uncomfortably; whether due to Raven's questioning gaze or the chains on her wrists, Raven did not know. "Clarke," the Grounder repeated, no visible accent visible in her tone. "My name is Clarke."

Raven smiled softly. "Clarke," she said like it was a foreign language. "Clarke…That's a beautiful name."

The Grounder finally gave a shy smile. "It was my aunt's," she said, her voice cracking.

"Was?"

"She died years ago," Clarke whispered, sadly. "Worst day of life…I suppose I'll be joining her soon enough, though."

Raven's eyes widened. "Clarke, I promise, I'm not going to let that-"

"Just promise you'll save my babies, okay? If you spare them, Lexa might let you live. I can't speak to the rest of your people, but at least you have a chance."

Spare her babies? Lexa? A chance to live? Raven's head was spinning too fast. She wanted to respond, to further inquire about what she meant, but no words would come out of her mouth. Her chest was starting to hurt too. Why the hell was her chest hurting? And her arm…fuck, Raven thought, as she brought it up to her face to see it shaking violently.

Clarke seemed to recognize this, sighing softly. "I'm sorry, Raven, but you can't leave this camp," she said, quietly, refusing to meet Raven's eyes. "At this point, my mother will have implemented a blockade. You'll be killed the moment you hit the tree line." Clarke huffed; not disrespectful but sad. "And that's just before Lexa gets here. Fuck, Raven. The moment she gets here with her army, your people are done."

Fuck, Raven thought, fuck, fuck, fuck. Her mind kept going in a vicious loop. Death. That's what was coming for them. A painful, vicious death. She wanted to ask Clarke more; to beg Clarke for her aid. But no words were able to escape her lips. In fact, the only thing that did was the wheezing breaths pumping out of her painful lungs.

She vaguely thought that she saw Clarke look at her in a panic. "Raven?" she said. Why did her voice sound like it was a million miles away? "Raven, you need to breathe!"

Breathe? Fuck that. How could she breathe? They were going to die! And why is it so hot in here? Fuck, she needed to leave. Far, far from Clarke right now. Tumbling towards the hatch, she pulled it open, accidentally kicking over the bucket of now-bloodied water. She didn't care, though; she'd deal with it later. Right now, all she needed was the freezing air whisking through her hair. Yes, yes…that should do.

She closed the door behind her and stepped down the ladder, only to fall several feet to the ground on her back. Fuck her, she was seeing double. No, no, make that triple. Everything was a blur. Her head hurt, and her eyes begged her to keep them shut.

"Fuck!" she faintly heard Murphy's voice above the ringing in her ears. "What's wrong with you, Reyes?"

"Fuck," Raven wheezed, "off."

She forced herself up, somehow managing to tumble her way out of the dropship and into the excruciatingly bright light of the outdoors.

"Raven?" she heard a voice call. "Raven?"

Was it Finn? She thought it was. The strong arms wrapped around her waist felt like his.

"Help," she choked out, a tear falling from her eyes.

Finn gently laid her on the ground, taking off his jacket to cover her.

"What the hell's wrong with her?" Atom said above her.

Fuck you, Raven wanted to hiss. But her legs only began to shake more.

_Death. Death. Death._

"She's having a panic attack!" Finn said, in a panic of his own. "There's a patch of lavender just outside the camp – right by the large oak tree," Finn said. "Please, grab some!? It may help calm her down!"

"Why the hell should I-?"

"Please!"

Atom growled, "fuck this!" but opened up the gates and wandered off, nonetheless.

No, Raven wanted to cry. Please don't die because of me.

But it was too late.

The sound of vicious snarling and horrific screams echoed through the air. The delinquents screamed and shut the gates – but not before Raven caught sight of a bloodied body being thrown in their direction by the biggest black wolf Raven thought she could only imagine.

_Fuck_, Raven thought, and everything went black.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

_Raven struggled against the grip of the guards. She screamed and kicked and punched, but it was of no use. The men were too strong; too determined to bring her to her new cell. But Raven was determined too. She would not go without seeing her mother one last time. _

_"Mom!" she screamed through her tears. "Mom!" _

_Finally, through the heightened crowd, an olive-skinned woman with a mouth mask appeared. "Raven!" her mother called out, too fighting against the guards that held her back. They had no problem using force even against a terminally ill woman. _

_"I'm sorry!" Raven cried. "I'm so, so sorry!" _

_"It's okay!" she exclaimed, as an officer cuffed her to drag her away from her daughter. Her voice broke, a tear falling. "It's going to be okay." _

_Raven wanted to run and hug her; do anything to make her mother's pain go away. But the guards seemingly had enough of the sentiments, for they roughly pulled her into the jail block and shut the doors behind her. _

Raven opened her eyes, a soft groan escaping her lips. She eyed her surroundings. She laid in a hammock in the middle of a newly-built tent. Finn must have made it for them when she was passed out. Next to her, a worried Finn himself laid in his own hammock staring her down.

"Hey," Finn whispered, a comforting smile on his lips. "I was worried about you."

Raven closed her eyes, laying back down. "I'm sorry."

* * *

_Clarke laid on her bed, wrapped in the arms of her loving mother as she cried her eyes out. She shook and screamed, but nothing made her feel better. It was like there was a physical hole in her heart that kept growing with each second, and nothing could fill the void. _

_"It's going to be okay," her mother would whisper to her, rubbing loving circles across her back. _

_"Lexa doesn't even talk anymore," Clarke sniffed. "I can't even remember the last time she so much as sent me a letter. How is it ever going to be okay?" _

_"It's not," her mother sighed. "But you'll survive – as you always have." _

Clarke blinked, opening her eyes to the sight of three people standing before her.

"Hi," one of the girls said, looking at the ceiling awkwardly.

Clarke eyed herself, realizing that she was still naked. Raven never came back with clothes or a blanket.

The girl who spoke had skin so pale it almost made her look sick. Her green eyes, however, were as bright as could be; a hint of worry and anxiety etched into them. Her hair was long and brown (like Raven). Her body was toned and of average height; small for Trikru, but tall for Floukru or Sankru. She appeared to be the youngest of the three as well, probably no older than 15 seasons of age.

The oval-faced man in the middle looked a lot like her mother and herself; the epicanthic folds of his black eyes. It was very rare among Trikru, only becoming a somewhat common occurrence in the Boudalan and Delfikru clans. But his tan skin was much paler than what people like Clarke and her mother looked like – even his black eyes looked closer to brown. He donned a red and grey jacket that appeared to be made of cotton.

To his side was a pale girl with long, waving locks of bright blonde hair. Her eyes were brown; lighter than the boy's, but still pretty dark. She also wore a leather jacket, in the same fashion as her mother. The girl must come from a well-off family, Clarke realized. It was near impossible to get a blue-colored article of clothing.

"Who the hell are you?" Clarke finally growled. Where was Raven? If she had to talk to anyone, she would prefer it to be with her.

They visibly flinched, before a flash of confusion rang across their faces. Clarke wanted to roll her eyes. Did the damn invaders not all know English?

"I'm, uh, Octavia," the brunette eventually spoke, raising her hands in peace. "This is Monty and Harper."

"Okay," Clarke said hotly. "What do you want?"

They were clearly not here to torture her like the horrid Bellamy man was. But that didn't mean she had to appreciate their presence. All Clarke wanted to do was gather enough of her strength to connect to Lexa and say goodbye. That's all she wanted. But it would seem the gods had other plans for her.

"Just to talk," Octavia said quickly, misinterpreting her crossness for fear. "I promise."

* * *

In a tent outside the dropship, Bellamy Blake stood around his self-proclaimed "war table" with his…_associates_: Myles Smith, John Mbege, Dax Schneider, Derek Ivanov, John Murphy, Connor Eze, and Sterling Smirnov. They were debating long and hard about what to do next, about what to with their Grounder prisoner. No one could agree. No one could see how this would end without bloodshed.

Moments after one of the wolves had killed Atom, an arrow was launched into their camp. People screamed and fled its path; however, it was a mere message – literally. At the edge of the arrowhead, a piece of paper was attached. It read out one clear message: "You have until sunset tomorrow to release your captive unharmed – or you will die." Bellamy and his men were quick to hide it from the others; fearful of the people's response.

"This has gotten out of hand!" Murphy exclaimed, sick of the fighting.

"No shit!" Bellamy snapped.

"I am _not_ dying over this!"

Bellamy laughed bitterly. "Well, it looks like we're all going to die no matter what!"

Murphy's face reddened with anger. "Because of you!"

Bellamy was in disbelief. "Because of me?"

"You're the one who just had to attack that wolf!" Murphy screamed. "You're the one who just had to take her back to camp! Hell, you're the one who wanted to torture her too! This is entirely on you!"

_Slap!_

Murphy's head snapped to the side, his cheek reddening around the long scratch.

The other men looked at each other worriedly.

"And what were you going during all this?" Bellamy questioned lowly, his dark eyes darkening with fury. "Huh? Laughing it up, that's what. Telling me to do it this way; to do it that way. You are far from innocent in this."

"You're redirecting," Murphy said. "Is that what you have to do to live with yourself right now?"

_Slap!_

Murphy glowered. "Try that again and I'll kill you."

Bellamy laughed, getting into his face. "Think you can take me?"

"You don't want to find out," he spat.

"Try me."

"Here we go again," Myles muttered to Sterling.

Sterling hummed in agreement.

Just as Murphy was about to swing at Bellamy-

"Enough!" an adamant voice called out.

Everyone froze at the harsh voice. Turning, they saw the cleanly-cut Nathan Miller at the doorway. With his black hair slicked back and leather clothes, he looked like a spitting image of his father, a well-known officer of The Guard. They hated everyone with connections to the Guard, but they also feared them too – whether they admitted it or not.

"What the hell is going on?" Miller demanded.

"None of your business!" Bellamy snapped.

Myles and John rolled their eyes.

"Like hell, it isn't," Myles muttered.

"Shut up!" Bellamy yelled at him. He turned back to Miller, eyes raging. "What do you want?"

"What I want?" Miler repeated incredulously. "I want to know what the hell is going on here! Not between you and Murphy – but the Grounder woman! What are you going to do with her?"

"Leave now," Bellamy growled. "The decision isn't up to you."

"The hell it isn't!" he exclaimed. "I just watched my friend get eaten by a wolf today! I don't want the same fate happening to me as well!"

Bellamy pushed him back to the flaps. "Leave. Now."

Miller punched him square in the face. "Fuck off, Bellamy. You're not in charge."

Murphy burst out laughing.

Bellamy growled and launched himself at Miller's legs, knocking him down to the ground. Miller yelped, his head slamming against the poles of the tent. Bellamy grunted and then positioned himself so his weight was on Miller's chest, allowing him the ability to punch the man with ease. Punch. Punch. Bellamy growled with a ferociousness none of the other men in the tent have ever heard before now.

Miller himself was more irritated than enraged. He could feel every blow he struggled to stop against his face; his nose broken and jaw soon to follow – if he didn't stop this. So, with a growl of his own, Miller brought his knee up to slam Bellamy's back as hard as he could. The force was enough to shock Bellamy into halting his movements and allow Miller and opening to wrap his legs around the older man's waist and flip Bellamy on his back.

"Are you done!?" Miller screamed.

Bellamy spat in his face and headbutted his already-broken nose. Miller hissed in pain and fell back. Before Bellamy could punch him again, however, Miller jumped to his feet and kneed Bellamy in the face. Bellamy's nose cracked instantly – but he was not done.

Bellamy swung his feet around, knocking Miller back down onto the ground. Bellamy then launched himself on top of Miller to resume his punches; Miller hissed and locked his arms around Bellamy's neck, forcing his face into the ground. The older man was quick to respond by lifting Miller off the ground and slamming him into another tent pole. Bellamy let him drop to the ground and raised his arm to punch the other man, only for Miller to punch him first.

Bellamy recoiled, holding his bloodied face in agony.

"Are you done?" Miller screamed again, wobbly getting back onto his feet.

Bellamy wasn't. But there was one man who had enough.

"That's enough!" Dax exclaimed, rushing to pull Miller away – just before Bellamy's swing met the man's face.

"Stop this!" Dax screamed at the raging Blake sibling.

Bellamy responded by taking out a gun that was strapped to his thigh.

Dax staggered back. "Woah!" He held his hands up in surrender. "What the fuck, man?"

"This is not a democracy!" Bellamy growled, flicking his gun in the blond man's face. "I'm in charge here!"

"No one is denying that, man!" Dax exclaimed.

"What I say goes!" Bellamy continued to rage.

Derek was quick to defend his cousin. "Whatever you say, man!" He grabbed Dax so he was behind him. "Put the gun down!"

Bellamy glared at him. "Afraid, are you?"

Derek shook his head. "What the fuck are you doing!? We're on your side!"

"Are you?" Bellamy questioned. "Are you really?"

"Yes!"

Bellamy looked over at the breath-heavy Miller, blood running down his chin.

"Put the gun down, man," Miller begged. "Please."

"Get out of here first," Bellamy demanded.

Miller sighed. "Fine," he said, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. "But I want to know what you plan on doing with the Grounder woman. I'm not the only one sick of being left in the dark."

And with that, Miller left; leaving Bellamy with a bunch of stunned men.

"Get some rest," he said, rubbing his eyes. "We'll resume in the morning."

They didn't need to be told twice.

Bellamy quickly stopped one man though; one man he trusted more than any of them. "Switch up the guards, will you?" he asked.  
"It's late. They need to sleep."

Connor nodded. "Sure thing." He eyed Bellamy. "You okay, man?"

Bellamy huffed. "No."

* * *

It was dark outside. The only light flickering through the camp of the 100 was the rays of moonlight and the torches hanging around the wall. Raven still had to be careful though. At this time, Bellamy's henchmen always had patrols going on that would be more than happy to report her suspicious behavior to Bellamy. She didn't care though. She had a mission that needed to be completed.

"Must you not rest?" Finn sighed, not far behind.

"If we don't get Clarke back to her people, we'll have eternity to rest," Raven retorted.

Finn huffed. "That sounds nice right about now."

Raven glared at him. "You don't have to follow me, you know? You could lay back down on your comfy hammock and sleep yourself."

Raven quickly pulled Finn to the side of one of the many make-shift tents, as the sound of a patrol came near. And she was right. Bruno Huber and Merry Eng, strong supporters of Bellamy, walked by; handguns strapped to their sides. When they were far enough, Raven sighed and continued to move on.

"I'm not leaving you alone," Finn responded.

"How nice of you." Whether he believed in her or not, Raven was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Finn grit his teeth. "I love you, Raven – I'm not letting you do this alone."

"So you're doing this because you love me?" Raven questioned, not bothering to look back at him. "Not because it's the right thing to do?"

Finn's grey eyes twitched. "What? No! You're twisting my words!"

Raven scoffed. "You don't deny it."

Finn ran a hand through his dark hair. "Raven," he sighed. How could he get her to understand? "I'm not the bad guy here."

"You're not the good guy either."

Finn couldn't hide his frustration. "I don't understand you!"

"Wouldn't be a first."

Finn hissed and pulled Raven over to him; so close that their noses were centimeters away from touching. "Why do you care so much about her?"

Raven shook out of his grip. "Do you want to die, Finn?" she asked. "Cause I sure as hell don't! You didn't hear the way she spoke! We're _dead_, Finn! All of us! Guns aren't going to save us from them!"

When Raven tried walking away again, Finn pulled her in close again. "I know you, Raven!" He struggled against her thrashing – but he had a mission of his own. "This isn't a question of mortality – this is personal to you! Why!?"

Raven stared at him for what felt like an eternity. "Remarkable," she whispered. "After all these years you still don't understand a damn thing."

Finn blinked in surprise; frozen on the spot. Raven just huffed at the sight and began heading towards the back entrance of the dropship again. It was the only chance she had to get to Clarke without being spotted. Maybe then they would be able to slip away in the darkness.

Unfortunately, Finn only had argued on his mind.

"Well then help me understand!" he exclaimed – a little too loud for Raven's liking. "Explain it to me!"

"You're a lost cause!" Raven hissed. "You're just like Bellamy!"

"I'm not the one torturing her!" Finn defended himself.

Raven spun around angrily. "Committing an atrocity and doing nothing about it are the same damn things!"

"I don't agree with what Bellamy has done, Raven!" Finn argued. "He never should have brought the woman back – nor should he have ever hurt her!"

"And yet you do _nothing_!"

"Everyone is doing nothing!" Finn said. "No one wants to get shot by Bellamy!"

Raven pointed her finger at him. "And there lies the fucking problem!"

Finn wanted to pull his hair out. "What do you want me to do!? Tell me! What do you want me to do!?"

"Help me!" Raven shushed. "Just help me get her out of here!"

"How?"

"I don't know! But what I do know is that we need to get her out of here!"

Before Finn could respond, Raven turned the corner and ran into what felt like a stone wall.

Raven froze.

Connor smirked. "What you talking about, Reyes?"

Raven looked at the solemn-Finn and sighed. "Fuck."

* * *

Clarke's mind was going a million miles an hour. She could feel the Harper girl helping her put a set of clothes on. She could hear the Monty boy telling her what the do next. She could even see Octavia pacing near the metal doors, looking down the ladder to ensure no one was near. And yet, it all felt so distant; as if she were here and away at the same time.

She was _escaping_. It wasn't even yesterday when she was positive that she was soon to be executed – and now people are here to help free her. It's not even her own people, but those who were torturing her. It all felt unreal. If only there were good people like that to help out Costia…

"We need to hurry," Monty spoke to Octavia.

Octavia nodded and rushed to aid Harper in helping Clarke stand. Clarke grunted at their efforts; her body still aching from her many injuries. She held her large belly, pain shooting through her body as her feet struggled to allow her weight to hit them.

When Clarke finally stilled, Harper walked a few steps and pulled out a small metal box from her jacket. "Jasper, you there?" she said.

The only response was a weird buzzing noise.

"Jasper?"

The three younglings exchanged concerned looks, and suddenly all of Clarke's hopes of escaping whisked away.

Monty frowned and made his way down the ladder.

Octavia turned to Clarke and smiled. "It's okay," she said. "It's going to be okay."

Clarke frowned. Octavia sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

"Uh, Octavia?" came Monty's voice.

"What!?" she called out.

"Can you, uh, come down here…please?"

Octavia and Harper exchanged looks. Harper nodded and took Octavia's place in supporting Clarke's weight.

Octavia rushed to the ladder and looked down. There stood an enraged Bellamy. An unconscious Jasper laid below his feet, blood dribbling from his head. Bellamy also had Monty in his grasp; a gun literally inside the man's mouth.

"Hey, O," Bellamy growled. "What have you been up to?"


End file.
